


Mischief and Blackberries

by alynshir



Category: Kingdoms of Amalur
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Fluff, Kinda?, Sleepy Cuddles, Slice of Life, alyn shir - Freeform, ish?, niamh - Freeform, queer shir, this is self indulgent fluff i'm not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4251702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynshir/pseuds/alynshir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Alyn thinks it might not hurt to be warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mischief and Blackberries

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from following-the-fairy-lights on tumblr; she wanted romantic Alyn/Fateless One as a celebration of same-sex legalisation in America. This isn't particularly celebratory, but is romantic and fluffy. Perhaps I'll do something celebratory later? ;D

“I like your face.”

The voice came as a surprise in the darkness. Alyn would have been startled, but by now, she did not truly know the difference between awake and asleep, and her arms and legs were too bone-tired to react to anything anyways.

“You like my face?” Alyn repeated, eyebrows raised quizzically.

“Yeah. When you space out you can tell you were thinking. Your nose was scrunched up. It was really cute.”

“I thought you fell asleep,” Alyn observed, glancing down at the woman who had formerly been slumped against her shoulder and now sat easing herself into a sitting position.

“I did fall asleep,” Niamh agreed, running a hand through her tousled - although perhaps wrecked was a better word - brown hair. Alyn wondered how the woman ever managed it into her twin braids. “But now it’s my watch, isn’t it?”

“Barely any time has passed,” Alyn said, returning her gaze back to the wall of impenetrable night outside the tiny bubble of autumn light caused by the dying embers of their fire.

“It’s been like, five hours. My watch started two hours ago,” Niamh pointed out, pushing the cloak she had been using as a makeshift blanket off of her legs and shivering as the cold night air hit her skin. Alyn didn’t understand this: she wore significantly less than Niamh, and yet felt the chill as if it were nothing more than a tingle of very slight discomfort. Niamh, on the other hand, never shut up about how freezing she was despite her layers of clothing and armor.

Although, Alyn realised, with some amusement, this did give the other Dokkalfar a completely valid excuse to be closer to her. 

Not that Niamh really reasoned it through anymore.

“Did it end, then?” Alyn said, raising her eyebrows. It hadn’t felt like much time at all.

“Did you never learn to tell time?” Niamh asked, her words teasing but sincere and lacking the bite Alyn would have expected from this particular face. She shook herself slightly, playing it off as a shiver that she knew would only be bought since the other elf was bleary-eyed and sleepy. Sometimes it was tricky to remember that Niamh was no longer the cruel, spiteful woman she had met in what felt like another life.

“I travelled alone for most of my time,” Alyn reasoned, glancing up towards the sky with its thousands of stars and the hours that eluded her. “I didn’t need to tell time. I just watched.”

“That sounds sucky,” Niamh commented, yawning.

“It wasn’t so terrible,” Alyn disagreed. “When you’re quiet and don’t try to fight everything, chances are it won’t try to fight you.” She looked pointedly down at Niamh.

“Says you, the deadly assassin of the night,” Niamh snarked, leaning onto Alyn’s shoulder. Although this had become somewhat of a common occurrence in recent history, it always startled Alyn: the sudden warmth - another thing she didn’t understand about Niamh; how was she always cold if she felt this warm to the touch? -, the sigh of absolute comfort that Niamh would always let out as she nestled into Alyn’s side…it was strange. Not a bad strange, but strange. Physical contact had always been a ‘take when needed’ sort of thing for Alyn, and now it felt like she needed it on a different scale and a lot more than she had ever before. Curious. Perhaps not unexpected, but curious.

“At least I don’t charge ettins and barghests at the drop of a hat,” Alyn scoffed, dutifully lifting up her arm and draping it around Niamh’s shoulders so that Niamh could better nestle her way into Alyn’s side. Like a thorn. Or a maggot.  
“That was one time,” the other Dokkalfar whined, and Alyn rolled her eyes.

“It was one time, twenty times ago. Do not make it twenty-one times ago.”

“Really?” Niamh asked, a hint of pride in her voice. The she paused, and although Alyn wasn’t looking at her, she could practically feel the other woman’s eyebrows draw together and hear her eyes narrowing. “Wait…were you counting?”

“…No.”

“Aww, babe!” Niamh cooed, sitting up so she could better see her caught red-handed lover. Alyn sighed and turned away, refusing to allow the slight burning in her cheeks become visible to Niamh. If she did, she’d probably never hear the end of it.

“I was not counting,” she denied, and Niamh rolled her eyes, her hands going to her hips in complete disbelief.

“You were totally counting,” she insisted, her eyes sparkling with aquamarine amusement. Alyn thought she saw something else there too, though, something wide-eyed and less laughing. Something touched.

“Stop it,” Alyn demanded, although she found herself unable to make her words sting. As she so often did around Niamh. It seemed as if the dashing, ridiculous elf was the antidote to her poison when she grew sour, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt on the matter. Without her poison, her cold, dark shield between others and herself, she felt exposed. And warm. She felt warm, inside and out, for the first time in a long time.

“You were worried!” Niamh cawed.

“I don’t worry,” Alyn said adamantly.

“Aww,” Niamh cooed, wrapping her arms around Alyn’s waist and tugging her closer. Alyn felt as if she had been embraced by summer. “C'mere.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re super cute when you’re embarrassed,” Niamh retaliated, and as Alyn relaxed into the other woman’s embrace, she thought she heard the other woman whisper 'case in point’.

“Hush,” she said, and Niamh’s head found its way to the crook between Alyn’s neck and shoulder, settling there comfortably. For a few moments, moments that seemed like hours of eternity that Alyn admittedly felt like staying in for at least another eon, there was silence and Niamh. And Alyn didn’t think she truly wanted it any other way.

“So are you gonna go to sleep and let me watch, or…?” Niamh whispered, interrupting the moment. Alyn had completely forgotten that Niamh’s purpose for waking up had been to take her watch.

“No.”

Niamh sighed in completely undisappointed defeat, and then leaned up, pressing her lips to Alyn’s lightly. Alyn tasted mischief and blackberries.

“Good night, loser,” the Fateless One said, pulling away and snuggling back down. Alyn wasn’t exactly sure when Niamh’s position had become 'into her arms’, but she found - as she seemed to more often lately - that she didn’t mind at all.

“Good night.”

“Don’t let the boggarts bite.”

“If they do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Wake me up if you need to pass out.”

“I will.”

“Daydream of Ljosalfar ladies in their underwear.”

“Go to sleep, Niamh.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this cheesefest; if you wanna drop me a line about anything I'm 'alynshirslover' on tumblr.


End file.
